Polarity
by UchihaAmaterasu
Summary: An exploration of the darker themes of Naruto through the eyes of those that built the Narutoverse that we all know and love. Rated K , for now... Madara and Hashirama centric, but not told in their perspectives.


_This is a new idea for a story that I am considering as a possible longer fanfiction. For the moment, it's this small prologue/oneshot kind of thing, but I decide to stick with this idea, the actual fanfiction of the same title will be uploaded to my actual account, LadyTenpenchii. I hope you enjoy._

 **Prologue**

The man's footfalls echoed in the cool basement as he ascended the steps beak to the surface. Attempting to tune my senses to the woman in front of me, the silence left a hollow emptiness in the air which not even the loud man next to me would dare shatter. Through the entire ordeal, the woman had not responded to the charged atmosphere surrounding her, opting instead to keep her unnerving crimson eyes locked unblinkingly on the stone before her.

It was the same sensation as when one's ears would ring in the silence in the wake of an exploding tag, but it was not my ears that were ringing, but my chakra, as it rushed to follow its master's command after the chaos receded from the damp air. Slowly, the sense returned to me, only to be once again painfully afflicted with sharp stabs of emotion.

The woman had clenched her eyes shut so hard that it had to hurt, and continuing to ignore the presence of the others in the room, she drew in a shuddering breath and her fists clenched at her sides, and I was once again allowed to breathe, the shock and pain of the pale woman still weighing heavily on her heart. Pursing her lips, I wryly wondered what had evoked such a reaction in the normally stoic Uchiha. Two pairs of eyes, one brown and one red bore into my back, and I did not need to meet their scorching gaze to know that I would endure detailed questioning at a later date, regardless of how much I do not wish to relive the last moments which stretched out like hours on the face of time itself.

All at once, the freezing air was once again emptied of the harsh weight of betrayal and pain as a crack resounded throughout the room, even the torches alight with dancing flame shuddered at the sound as if it punctuated a scathing remark. Having resolved herself to the effort of movement once again, the woman stretched her shoulders back and once more, the popping of her vertebrae split the biting and torturous silence once more, and I had to fight the urge to shudder, a chill shooting its way up my spine.

"You would be wise," the woman began, "to refrain from any further unnecessary involvement with my clan."

Confusion flashed across my mind for a moment before it cleared as I realize the dismissive statement was not meant for me.

As the firelight warmed the woman's skin and set her hair ablaze in the shadows, she heaves a deep breath before looking over her right shoulder to a point behind me. Closing my eyes quickly, I feel the woman stiffen at my supposed distrust, but knew that my reflex to the eyes of an Uchiha would not be held against me. Not by this Uchiha, at least.

"Why should I do that?" Came the whispered reply, gently, carefully respectful, and weary. If the situation had not been unbearably serious, I may have considered a joking remark about there being a brain between his ears, but knowing I would be on the receiving end of the scorching glares of everyone present made me hold my tongue. It is wise of him. To be weary, that is.

Uchiha are fragile. They strike me as a bunch that would much sooner destroy the world than forgive their enemies and save the world from the centuries-long war, but that bridge shall be crossed when it lies in the path, though this night has probably done more to bring that bridge closer to the present than any battle in the clans' history. When you deal with so many of the clan on a regular basis, you tend to notice patterns in their behavior, moments of high emotion in which their tongues slip and let loose a stream of astoundingly dark and malevolent intention. If you catch them at the right time, they won't fall too far, they won't get too close to the edge of the cliff of insanity, until it is finally too late. Until the small, fragile, unyielding bands in their heads are pulled too tight, stretched too thin, and the tension is expelled into the world in a stream of hateful and scorching fire which burns all in its path. But I've never been able to read this one, never been able to determine how close she is to jumping off the slippery slope which not even the happiest and most optimistic soul would be able to pull her back up from the depths of her hatred in which she will drown herself in her own blood and the blood of others. Wise to be careful, indeed. Despite everything that she has witnessed, has this one somehow managed to avoid the cruel fate of her kin? Only time will tell. Until then, better safe than sorry.

Only one movement, one statement out of place could send her hurdling across the point of no return, and I hold my breath as I wait for her reply for fear of disrupting the silence and disrupting the careful balance of peace and chaos that reigns in the village tonight. I crack my eyes open to find that my fears of meeting her soul piercing gaze were misplaced. Her charcoal eyes did not stare accusingly like the man's did, and instead, appeared dulled and defeated, as though she had resolved herself to a gruesome fate by an unknown force.

"You have played your part. Any further involvement will not end well for either of us. Now I see, this is a burden I must now bear alone. You have done what you can as best as you can, but you have reached the limit of what the world will allow you to do. It is my turn. For the sake of the world, you must stay out of this."


End file.
